Hard To Love
by The Last Letter
Summary: It's not easy to be in love but it's worth it. (Multiple pairings)


_I am insensitive, I have a tendency_

_To pay more attention to the things that I need._

_Sometimes I drink too much, sometimes I test your trust,_

_Sometimes I don't know why you stay with me._

Jack Bartlett quietly closed the door to his truck. In his left hand, he grasped a coffee cup - a stimulant needed for the long drive he had just taken. In his right hand, he held a bouquet of flowers (daisies and roses). He took a moment to stand in his driveway, facing the house he had just built with his wife. The light from the kitchen was shining onto the ground just a few steps away from him. He imagined her, sitting alone, at their kitchen table. He imagined her sitting there, crying, because that's what she had been doing when they had last spoke.

He thought back to a mere twelve hours before. She had called him, asking about how that night's rodeo had gone, and why he hadn't called her directly after, like he had promised. He was drunk; had been drinking since his big loss at the rodeo that night. He hadn't wanted to call her – he was too disappointed in himself. He had mumbled an apology, and maybe that would have been it. Except there was a buckle bunny sitting on his left, who had giggled and said his name in a suggestive manner.

Lyndy had simply asked about the girl … it was he that had reacted badly, or rather, the alcohol within him.

Now, he had to make it right with her. He walked slowly up the drive, hearing the gravel crunch under his cowboy boots. He made it to the door and hesitated. What if she were angry? What if she turned him away? He loved her with all of his heart, and he was sure that she loved him back, but love wasn't enough to build a relationship around. She needed to be able to trust him completely, and sometimes he knew he tested that trust. Perhaps he had broken her trust. He grasped the door knob, but realized that he couldn't walk away because he was scared of what he might have done.

He opened the door.

Lyndy was not at the table where he had pictured her being. A quick search proved that she was not in the home at all. Jack paused, resisting the urge to scratch at his head like a confused cartoon character. Her car was still in the drive. He supposed she could have gone into town to have a night out with her friends or band mates but he doubted it. Lyndy liked being on the road when she was out but when she was home she rarely left. Especially since they had just built the new house.

Jack realized where she was. Not only had they built a house but they had a barn for their horses. He left the house, heading quickly to the barn, not stopping to appreciate the beauty of the night. The scent of hay was quick to assault his nose along with the unique scent of horses. He heard Lyndy, too. The strumming of her guitar was quick to reach him, although she was not singing. She was talking to his ancient mare, the one he'd had since he was much younger.

"You've been in his life much longer than I have, Darling. I don't know what to do about him. I love him but he frustrates me sometimes. It just seems like he can't have a straightforward conversation." Lyndy sighed. "I guess that's what I get for falling in love with a rodeo cowboy. Not to say I would trade him for anything, because I wouldn't."

Jack stepped into the barn, his footsteps echoing.

"Jack!" Lyndy cried, startled by her husband's sudden appearance. She jumped off the hay bale she had been perched on. She abandoned her guitar, leaning it against Darling's stall door. "Jack!" She repeated, jumping into his arms.

The flowers were slightly crushed between their two bodies but neither of them noticed. "I thought you were on the circuit for another two weeks," Lyndy breathed, grabbing his face in both hands and kissing him firmly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_

_No, I don't make it easy,_

_I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood_

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_

_You say that you need me,_

_I don't deserve it but I love that you love me, girl._

Tim closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and treasuring the feel of sunshine on his face, the scent of freshly mowed grass being brought to his nose, the chirping of birds loud in his ears. "This was the kind of day you would have loved, Marion."

The grey headstone bearing her name didn't reply to him; never did, but that didn't stop him from coming up here to speak to her. Marion had been the only woman to love him unconditionally. She had been the true love of his life; the first woman who he had known he loved from deep within his bones. When their hands had intertwined, his heart had skipped a beat because of how well they had fit together.

"I miss you." He told her this every time he came to visit her, and it was never any less true.

It could be argued that he had no right to miss her. He had walked out on her when they had needed each other most. She'd been left with a broken heart and two children. His heart had broken too. He had left, not because he didn't love her anymore, but because it was the right thing to do. He had become a monster after his accident, and what kind of a man would he be if he made her live with him? It was because he loved her that he had walked away from her.

He'd always intended to return.

"I like to think you'd eventually come to appreciate the irony of the situation," Tim reveals to Marion. "You always pushed people to live in the present. Not in the past, not in the future, but in the present. 'It's where you are needed most'," he quoted his late wife. "I didn't live in the present where you needed me, but in the future where I wouldn't be able to return to you.

"I didn't know that then. I was stupid to think that you would just sit around waiting for me. I must applaud you; you did a wonderful job with our children and you lead a terrific life."

Tim took a moment to wipe away his tear and pretend he hadn't been crying.

"I wish you were still here. I like to think that we would have worked because I never stopped loving you, and I know that you never stopped loving me. You were there for me when I needed you most; I was just too stupid to realize it was you that I needed.

"I love you Marion. I always will."

_I am a short fuse, I am a wrecking ball_

_Crashing into your heart like I do_

_You're like a Sunday morning full of grace and full of Jesus_

_I wish that I could be more like you._

If there was one thing that Ty Borden would tell you about himself, is that he was destined to hurt every single person who cared about him. He didn't go out of his way to do it; somehow it was written in his genetic make-up that if someone cared about him, he had to wound them, or offend them, or do something to make them cry or hit him. He wasn't particularly proud of his skill, and he did try to stop it, but it happened.

So when it came to the person he loved most in the world, when it came to his Amy, it was only fate that he would hurt her more than any other person in the entire universe. The amount of times he had made her cry, or question their relationship, or cause some inner, emotional turmoil was so momentous that it made him sick to think about it. In the long scheme of things, he hoped to make her so happy that she would forget any harm he had ever caused her – he knew it was ridiculous, the tears she had cried would always be there – but he wanted her smiles to outnumber her tears, her joys to rise above any other emotion.

Ty wished that he could be more like Amy. While he was something of a hurricane, she was a breath of fresh air. He wished that he possessed an ounce of the beauty she held – not physical beauty, but who she was. She was human, with human flaws, but she was so beautiful throughout every one of them. He wished that he possessed the healing hand that she did, taking broken creatures and releasing them whole. He wished that he possessed her ability to love, to fall for him with her heart wide open and a smile on her face, believing that he would catch her.

He did, eventually.

He loved who she was, inside and out. He loved the life they had lived together. He loved the life they would build together. He loved how she tucked her smaller hand into his, and told him she loved him, and how grateful he was that she told him so every day. He loved the smile on her face when she jumped into his arms. He loved her kiss.

He loved the way she loved him when he didn't deserve it.

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_

_No, I don't make it easy,_

_I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood,_

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_

_You say that you need me,_

_I don't deserve it but I love that you love me, girl._

_Love me, girl._

Peter was a stubborn man. Peter was a willful, opinionated, loudmouthed, man.

Peter had a stubborn, willful, opinionated, loudmouthed wife.

There was nothing wrong with the way that either of them were; in fact, Peter loved his wife all the more for it. It made her who she was, even if she was yelling at him in the early hours of the morning because he was on her side and that's just the way things were and he yelled back that she had been on his side and that was just the way things are.

Peter was something that Lou was not.

Peter was selfish.

He loved Lou, he did. Yet, he also loved himself. He didn't understand how men could be completely selfless in relationships. He would take a bullet for Lou, he would give her his life if it came down to it. She was the love of his life, the mother of his daughter, and he would rather jump off a bridge now than never meet her at all. But sometimes he did things without considering her feelings, how they were a team now.

He was so used to being on his own and, after his first marriage, he had never expected to be part of a team again.

"Peter, you put the salt and pepper shakers in the wrong side again!"

Who even thought about the proper placement of shakers? Peter walked out into the kitchen where Lou had swiftly reorganized his mistake. "Sorry honey," he apologized, kissing her neck.

Peter was a man in love. Peter was a man who was part of a team, forever and always. Peter was a man who could forget his selfishness all for the sake of seeing her smile.

It would always be worth it.

_Girl, you've given me a million second chances_

_And I don't ever wanna take you for granted,_

_I'm just a man, I'm just a man_

Caleb remembers the night he left to find her. The stars were already shining and he hadn't slept since the night before, but he made himself a thermos of coffee and left. The feeling in his heart of how this was _right_ kept growing with every kilometer he drove. He could feel himself getting lighter as he realized how close he was to Ashley.

He pulled into the parking lot, not giving a thought to how hick he looked in the city. His unshaven chin, cowboy boots, and cowboy hat made him stick out like a sore thumb. He looked at all of the people judging his hat and jammed it on his head. This was Canada, goddammit, cowboys were everywhere; they didn't just go into hiding until the Calgary Stampede occurred.

He entered the apartment building, thinking that she should be in a place with a doorman. This wasn't Hudson, she wasn't in his arms. She wouldn't just be protected here. Caleb refused to consider that Ashley might have found someone else to protect her in the big city. He found her apartment number and knocked.

He briefly wondered what Ashley would think about her ex-husband showing up on her doorstep unannounced. Luckily, he didn't have time to dwell. A small Asian woman opened the door.

"Can I help you?" She asked, inspecting him up and down.

"I'm looking for Ashley," Caleb faltered. He realized that she probably hadn't kept his name. "Stanton. Ashley Stanton."

The woman blinked. "There's no Ashley here. But an Ashley O'Dell lives in the next apartment on the left."

Caleb thanked the woman, heart singing. She had kept his name. That had to mean something, didn't it? That had to mean that some sort of connection still existed between them. He was still in love with her. She had to feel something for him – it couldn't be wishful thinking.

He knocked on the apartment that the Asian woman had told him to. She answered this time, like she was supposed to the first time. She didn't have any make-up on, her long hair was wet against her shoulders, and the towel she was wearing was showing off her long legs nicely.

"Caleb," Ashley breathed, meeting his eyes. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You look beautiful," he told her.

"What are you doing here?" Ashley asked, unable to look away from him.

"I came to see you."

"Why? We're over. The divorce papers were signed –"

"That doesn't mean I don't love you. That doesn't mean that I don't need you in my life."

"Caleb," Ashley managed, tears clogging in her throat.

"Shh," Caleb whispered, cupping her jaw in his hand.

Ashley leaned into his calloused palm, drawing comfort from the one man that could always offer it.

"I love you." He said.

"We can't do this. It's over for a reason."

Caleb withdrew his hand. Ashley's eyes snapped open.

"Then tell me you don't love me." Caleb demanded. He had looked into her eyes; he knew the truth. She couldn't tell him that she didn't love him, because she did. "We made a lot of mistakes in our relationship, Ash. The biggest one I ever made was letting you walk away. I'm fighting for you because that's what you deserve. You deserve someone that will move heaven and earth for you, and that's what I'm doing. Even if I have to move to the middle of this godforsaken city I will be here, with you, because it's where I will always find my heart."

Ashley jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. Caleb tumbled into her apartment, lips fused to her, the towel falling away between them as he showed her just how much he missed and loved her.

_Hard to love, hard to love,_

_Oh, I don't make it easy_

_And I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood._

_I'm hard to love, hard to love_

_And you say that you need me,_

_I don't deserve it but I love that you love me, girl_

Sometimes Jake thinks that he should love Mallory a little less.

He had loved her since the moment he laid eyes on her and had been making it obvious ever since. They weren't even that old – still striving for that seventeenth birthday – yet Jake knew that he loved her. Mallory had spent the greater portion of their time together telling him that he was wrong, he didn't love her, they were never going to be in love, she just liked him like a puppy. It never convinced Jake.

He was in love with her and she was going to love him back. He would wait a century or longer, if it meant, at the end of the day, Mallory loved him. If it meant that the blonde beauty would someday say those three words to him and fall into his arms, he would do whatever it took. He knew she would; he just had to have faith and keep on loving her.

But it got hard sometimes. Not just for him, holding his pillow and dreaming of her night after night, but he knew that it must be hard on her. Especially when he was younger, he would tag along behind her, practically begging her to notice him. It wouldn't be easy to have someone love you so strongly when you didn't even know them.

She knew him now and still didn't love him back but that was neither here nor there.

Jake knew that they would fall in love somebody. They would be a fairytale; something that just didn't happen in real life. She was already his princess. She just had to realize that Jake wasn't a frog. When it happened, it would be beautiful. It would be magical.

Sometimes Jake thinks he should love Mallory a little less but she deserves nothing less than his whole heart.

_You love me, girl._

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my exquisite beta: noble6. The song is _Hard To Love_ by _Lee Brice._**

**~TLL~**


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